


Turning point

by Blank_Ideas



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-27
Updated: 2020-04-27
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:02:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23875885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blank_Ideas/pseuds/Blank_Ideas
Summary: Michael before he gets yeeted into a fear entity
Kudos: 21





	Turning point

"Good morning!"

It never hurt to be optimistic did it? Michael rationalised in the forefront of his mind as he gradually realised that he had in fact flung the archive doors open and put his best foot forward regardless of the usual stuffy atmosphere that incriminated such cheer. He flushed a little and hunched his shoulders forward a little, repositioning the stack of papers tucked beneath his left arm.

Glued to the spot with his awkward smile, Michael questioned himself, maybe it did hurt? No one seemed much happier.

"Yes I suppose it is." Gertrude lifted her chin up from where it had stubbornly perched itself on her closed fist, her aged eyes turned upwards to him as she smiled sweetly and gestured for him to place the papers down.

Michael was almost mechanical as he nodded and moved forward on too lanky legs and deposited the papers, his smile twisting thankful as his cheeks lessened in their heat.

Things had been tense in the office for a while now. Something about books he couldn't remember the name off, apparently they did some horrific things- though, as only an intern, Michael didn't know much. Still, he understood that it was dangerous and that the more senior staff were most likely stressed to the point of greying about it.

Stress? That was something he was more equipped to handle, growing up in a busy household with older siblings and career orientated parents. He knew the value of being cheerful and made it a point to smile and greet his coworkers when he entered.

No one seemed to appreciate it much.

He teased his chair out from beneath his desk, anxious to not disturb the workplace even further despite how it scraped and screeched hoarsely on the wooden floor. Wincing at the sound, he glanced about with a sudden spike in anxiety once again, hoping he hadn't been as loud as he had thought he'd been.

Michael felt jittery the rest of the day, his leg bouncing with a lack of focus on the files in front of him as he tried time and time again to read the same few lines and only managing to finish five in an hour. He felt guilty for taking up so much time and so much space, but truly there was too much buzzing within his skull and he was overly conscious of every single one of his movements- a waste of energy.

This mind set, however detrimental, stuck with him all day and sapped the energy he'd hoped to bring to the office. It made his feet drag as he put on his coat and finally left for the night, having desperately tried to stay late and make up for his lack of work. He felt useless and disorganised and pathetic, pulling the familiar door open so he could duck out and leave the institute and sleep. Sleep would be nice.

What he didn't factor in was Gertrude, as usual the last in the office, tailing him. Despite her age softened exterior and short height, she had a surprising speed about her as she gently tapped Michael for attention, he turned despite how much he didn't want to, giving into her before she even demanded a single thing because deep down, he rather liked Gertrude. She had a grandmotherly aspect that he expected his own would have had if they had not been dead by the time of his birth, and besides that she was a hard worker and dedicated to her job regardless of repeated absences that Michael put down to possible illnesses- he could respect someone with such clear skill. In truth he liked her quite a lot even if their conversations were often brief and to the point, and he hoped she liked him too.

She pat his arm again, a harmless smile on her face. "I think we all appreciate your optimism, thank you for not being cold like the rest of us." Her tone was joking, a sort of fun banter that Michael had rare friends to appreciate with and the sort that poked fun at everyone including herself. Though something particular in her eyes warmed Michael thoroughly, a sense of earnest sincerity evident in the way she nodded and continued forward as she left a sense of camaraderie in her wake.

It made him feel appreciated.

So now, in a time now long distant from such a memory, why did the name of Gertrude Robinson fill him with such a void. Such a nothing that Michael would have named it rage or perhaps even betrayal- if he were still human.


End file.
